


The Ritual

by pragmaticArtificer



Series: Eye of the Beholder [3]
Category: The Magnus Archives (Podcast)
Genre: AU Jon doesn't burn Gerry's page and Gerry is mad about it, AU where the Catalogue of the Trapped Dead is not a part of the End, Ace Subtype- watcher, But I'm too American to care about fixing it, Elias Bouchard Being a Bastard, I apologize in advance for the horrible mix of American/British English, Jonah Magnus Eat Your Heart Out, M/M, Major Spoilers, Mild BDSM, Oral Sex, Piercings, Set about mid-season 4, Voyeurism
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-03
Updated: 2021-01-03
Packaged: 2021-03-12 23:54:25
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 10,262
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28518951
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/pragmaticArtificer/pseuds/pragmaticArtificer
Summary: Gerry and Martin go down to the Archives with another new problem for Jon to solve. This time, everyone gets something out of the solution.
Relationships: Gerard Keay/Jonathan "Jon" Sims | The Archivist, Martin Blackwood/Gerard Keay, Martin Blackwood/Gerard Keay/Jonathan "Jon" Sims | The Archivist, Martin Blackwood/Jonathan "Jon" Sims | The Archivist
Series: Eye of the Beholder [3]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2051763
Comments: 2
Kudos: 49





	The Ritual

**Author's Note:**

> Happy New Year!!!
> 
> A bit belated but still...
> 
> If you haven't read the other parts, there is a rough summary given within the fic, but I recommend reading the others before this one.
> 
> Thanks again to @lyssakaz3 for beta reading!
> 
> So the next part isn't finished but I've put a lot of work into other stuff for the series. Not sure if I'm going to wait to post in order, or post things as they get completed.
> 
> Detailed CW in end notes

It's late by the time Gerry and Martin head downstairs to the Archive. Street lights and headlights through the windows outshone the dim after hours lighting in the Lobby, casting their shadows across the stairs. It didn't mean too much, seeing as how it was nearly the winter solstice, but something about it set Gerry's hair on end. While there wasn't even any fog, he reached out to take Martin's hand, squeezing it while keeping his eyes ahead. Martin looked at him for a moment, then squeezed back as they continued on in silence.

Their hands broke apart when they came to the door to the archives, Martin taking out his key while Gerry shifted the banker's box back to a two handed hold. It struck him then, when the door opened, that the Archives smelled the same as they always had. Years of rotating employees, monster invasions, and deep cleaning did nothing to change the dusty scent of slow paper decay that permeated the place. Even the lingering cigarette stench, heavy enough to make Gerry's fingers itch, seemed like a passing note in an otherwise stagnant perfume. At least they'd gotten the carpet changed.

When they got to the bullpen and the office, only a third of the overhead lights remained on. The blinds were drawn over the window in the Archivist's door, and no light seemed to peak out from the bottom. "You're sure he's still here?" Gerry asked, putting the box down on the nearest desk. There was a note on one of the desks, obviously for him given that most of the desks had been clear of any personalization for months.

"Yeah, Jon doesn't really go home all that much anymore," Martin replied, scratching the back of his head. "Not since he and Tim woke up from their coma."

'Hey Tall, Goth, and Handsome- Me and the others went home for the night. Wanted to wait for you but not as bad as I want to avoid the Boss. There's a cot in document storage you can use if you need to sleep. Don't be afraid to kick Jon out; he does still have a flat. I'll try to be in at a reasonable time tomorrow in case you need anything. Sleep tight and don't let anything in Artifact Storage bite. Seriously. -Tim'

"Their coma?" Gerry echoed, crumpling the note and tossing it in a nearby bin. He didn't want to think about the implications of Tim calling him handsome or specifically bringing up Artifacts Storage.

Martin's lips twitched. "Guess you didn't get that story yet," he sighed. "Someone will definitely fill you in later. Even if I haven't been around much lately, Jon is bound to still be down here somewhere."

As if on cue, there was a groaning creak that echoed through the stacks as a trap door opened between them. Jon popped out of it, looking all the world like an emaciated mole person as he shielded his eyes from the light.

"Martin?" Jon asked, heart leaping into his throat and bleeding into his words. "What are you doing down here?"

"Jon," Martin's face lit up gloriously for a short moment before it was replaced with suspicion. "What were you doing in the tunnels?"

"Would you believe me if I said I was just having a smoke break?" Jon asked, shutting off the heavy duty flashlight. He stepped out into the Archive proper before letting the hatch drop again, moving to replace the padlock that had been discarded beside it.

Gerry, who had remained silent during the exchange, finally breathed. "Sod off," he remarked, making both other men jump. "There's bloody secret tunnels under the Institute after all?"

Jon and Martin shared another look. "Yes?" Martin replied at the same time Jon remarked, "You didn't know about them? I would have thought you and Gertrude would have made ample use of them."

Gerry crossed his arms as soon as Jon mentioned Gertrude, though the tone of Jon's voice had already had Gerry bristling. "She either didn't find them until after, or she didn't tell me, clearly," he huffed, turning away from the shabby archivist.

"Gerry," Martin stepped closer, putting a hand on the taller man's arm.

That seemed to get Jon's attention. "What's going on, anyway?" He snapped, eyes darting between the two. "Martin, I thought you- has Gerry been bothering you too?"

Martin's hand pulled back as if Gerry were made of hot wax and flame. "No, no!" He exclaimed, a bit too loud and a bit too red. "Not at all. We-"

"There's been a bit of development in my situation, Archivist," Gerry interrupted Martin, meeting Jon's furious gaze with his own temper. Though he'd already known on a logical level where he was ranked within the others' affections, the reminder still hurt.

"What do you mean?" Jon asked, brows knitting together nearly fast enough to make a sound.

Gerry gestured to the box. "Look for yourself." He stepped back to stand next to Martin, who was wringing his hands anxiously.

Jon gave Gerry another suspicious look as he approached the box. He did, in fact, smell like fresh cigarette smoke, but why he took a break in the most definitely haunted tunnels instead of the courtyard was anyone's guess. Gerry certainly didn't know or care, though he did get a rush of glee at how fast the Archivist's face went green as he got a look at the state of the page.

"What in God's name?" Jon muttered to himself, reaching out too fast for Gerry or Martin to warn him.

As soon as the Archivist's fingers touched the edge, pinching a bit in an attempt to pick it up, Gerry doubled over with a punched out sound. Jon gagged at the feel of the warm flesh on his fingers, immediately checking them for any sort of fluid or gore. They were mercifully clean.

"Please don't do that," Martin stammered, earning looks from the other men.

"A little late," Gerry hissed, sucking his breath back in through his teeth.

"Yes, a bit of forewarning would have been nice," Jon sighed, rubbing his eyes with the hand that had not touched the page. "Are you alright," his voice softened, and it took Gerry a moment to realize the Archivist was addressing him.

"Yeah," Gerry wheezed, gripping the desk with one hand to pull himself back to standing. His other hand hovered a few inches away from his stomach, unable to staunch the feeling shooting through his gut but trying to protect the area as much as he could. "Bloody hurts and tickles at the same time. Weird fucking sensation." He took another deep lungful of air and sighed. "Can we take this to your office, oh mighty Archivist?" he asked, looking at Jon. "If I end up a puddle of flesh bits and skin, I'd like to have a bit of privacy when I fall apart."

Martin made a choked noise of concern, clearly not having thought of that possibility, while Jon rolled his eyes in annoyance.

"I suppose I'll let you make a mess of my office again," Jon grumbled, "if you feel that strongly about it."

"I do." Gerry kept his eyes on Jon's back as he walked to his office, making sure the other felt the weight of his gaze.

"I suppose I'll-" Martin swallowed hard, shifting his weight awkwardly.

"'Come too?" Gerry supplied, cutting the other man off before he could make an excuse to leave. "We could use your insight and," Gerry swallowed, his voice lowering, "I don't think it'd be good for you to be alone right now." There was no telling when Peter Lukas might come sniffing around to check on his pet project, and Gerry was truly worried about what would happen if it was anytime soon.

The far off glaze to Martin's eyes faded, the heat from his cheeks running it off. "Yeah," he agreed softly, eyes on the ground as he followed Gerry over to the office door. Jon watched them both, eyes flicking between the two men, the banker's box, and the outer office. He locked the door behind them all before letting out a sigh.

"So what, pray tell, in fourteen fears happened this afternoon?" Jon asked, his pigheaded Archivist's facade slipping into place as if the door latch was a record button. "Your page was certainly smaller and less," he shuddered, "fleshy earlier."

Gerry set the banker's box on Jon's desk, feeling a bit smug to see that it was still mostly bare. "You gave me a job," Gerry pointed out. "I met the coworkers you so nicely foisted me onto, and Stoker took me to get on the books all nice and proper like."

Jon seemed to be mouthing the words 'a job' when Martin piped up. "I was able to get Gerry on payroll, at least entered in, before we," he swallowed hard, freckles stark against his blush, "noticed anything amiss. I don't even think I got his signature on the standard contract yet though."

"Interesting," Jon walked over to the desk, standing between Martin and Gerry, as he peered down at the seemingly living skin. "You didn't notice it change before that? It just changed all at once."

"We were busy," Martin replied quickly. Too quickly. "The payroll system can be tricky."

Jon narrowed his eyes. "Alright, if you were paying that much attention to the computer," he turned his attention away from Martin. "Gerry, when did you notice the change? Was it sudden?"

Gerry could tell that Jon wasn't using any special powers in that moment, but the way he said his name and the intensity of his scrutiny made the taller man shiver. "My page fell under the desk fairly soon after I entered, and it was the same as it was before at that point."

Jon scowled, but turned his attention away from Gerry enough that the taller man could relax again.

"I think we can attribute these changes to the Eye, at the very least," Jon concluded, rubbing his chin. The rasp of his callouses tugging against his stubble was just barely audible. "Perhaps your initial materialization was due to soaking in the ambient power over months, but you've become more stable as more people within the Eye's domain interact with you. Especially those it has a particular hold on."

Jon looked at the third man in the room, who seemed to be wilting again; crumpling in on himself and trying to become smaller than he already was. "Martin," he addressed him softly, making the man's name almost feel like a caress. It startled the blonde into meeting his gaze. "You also seem," Jon searched for the right words. "More present than you have in quite some time. Did wanting to help Gerry pull you back a bit, or was it the Eye's doing, I wonder?" Jon knew how empathetic Martin was. It was one of the many reasons he'd slowly fallen in love with him for. But he also couldn't factor out the Eye taking a stronger hold over Martin to get what it wanted out of him.

Martin looked down immediately, blush burning his cheeks. "I don't know?" He replied softly, grinding the toe of a shoe into the carpet. "I didn't sense anything overtly spooky influencing our conversation." He looked up at Gerry as he said this, the other man lost as to what Martin's eyes were trying to convey.

"Alright," Gerry sighed, rubbing his eyes. "I think it's time to bring up the cartoonish amount of elephants dancing around the room, most of which are of my creation, though you two aren't entirely innocent."

Jon narrowed his eyes, "What are you even talking about?"

At the same time, Martin squeaked, "Gerry, I don't -”

"I promise I don't usually, well," the goth interrupted him. "Air these sorts of things, but there are some unfortunately critical parts I think we're missing by avoiding the subject."

Gerry looked first to Jon. "It took me months to manifest, here in the heart of the Eye's domain, on the desk of its precious Archivist, but even then I was still mostly," he wiggled his fingers. "Ghosty. Corporeality didn't really settle in until after you watched me get myself off."

"What?" Martin gasped, half strangled, as he tugged at his jumper.

"It's not like I really had a choice," Jon snapped at Martin defensively, his cheeks red as his eyes darted between the two other men. 

"No, you didn't," Gerry felt his resolve deflate just a little, "And I am sorry about that. I'm not entirely sure what came over me, and I would have preferred it if such a thing had happened under more enthusiastically consenting circumstances."

"What?" It was Jon's turn to clutch at himself, though he grabbed the sleeves of his rumpled button up rather than the front of it. 

"Since you were forced to watch as I invoked a statement," Gerry continued on, his own cheeks a deep red. "Well, I think the combination of you and the Eye beholding me directly in that moment is what made me more permanently solid."

Jon, for all of the anxiety churning in his guts, had to ask, "And the rest of it? Your page was still parchment when I kicked you out of my office." His eyes flicked to Martin, terrified of the answer.

Martin could have melted into a puddle on the spot himself, hot tears welling in his eyes as he looked anywhere but at the other two in the room.

"I seduced Martin shortly after Tim left us alone," Gerry admitted, tentatively brushing his fingers against the blonde's hand. "He's, God, Jon, you know he's gorgeous. I think I fell in love with him on the spot."

Those words seemed to pull both Jon and Martin out of their own thoughts, eyes focusing on Gerry. The goth felt a much stronger, more pleasant sort of heat from it. "Between the grip the Lonely had on him, and my own desperation, I couldn't help myself. We both needed it."

Martin relaxed his hand, turning it to capture Gerry's for a brief squeeze before letting go. It was enough to propel Gerry through the next bit.

"I don't think those are the only factors. Honestly, I think giving me a job as one of the Eye's servants might have been a bit of a turning point, a lynchpin of sorts in the mechanism to turn me from a mere victim into more of a tool," he looked between the other two men once more. "But it certainly feasted on the agony that manifested from my meddling with the two most besotted wankers in all of London."

"I have no idea what you're talking about," Jon snapped.

"Does that really have anything to do with all this?" Martin asked simultaneously.

Gerry crossed his arms. "Yes. You absolutely do know what I'm talking about," he said with a pointed look at Jon. "And I wouldn't out anyone's feelings like this if it wasn't completely necessary," he added, turning to Martin. "To be perfectly honest, I'd probably try to woo you both myself under better circumstances, but considering I'm dead and would honestly prefer to stay that way, it's not the best idea."

"Gerry!" "What the hell do you mean?"

Gerry rubbed his eyes again, forcing himself to stay calm by taking measured breaths. "I didn't just die in some nasty fear-fueled attack," he answered quietly. "It was an undetected brain tumor. My own body turned against me." He dropped his hand from his eyes. "If I become real again, there's a chance that comes along too. Especially since it was my death by it that bound me to the book." He shuddered, even as Martin placed a comforting hand on his arm. "I don't want to die like that again. I would have preferred to be burned when I was still just a ghost."

Jon gripped his own chin again, staring at Gerry as he thought hard. "What if it didn't?" He asked after a long moment, eyes scanning the goth from head to toe.

"What do you mean," Gerry croaked, barely returning Jon's gaze.

"Suppose the tumor doesn't come back with you, if you become a living being again." He hesitated at using the word human, as he wasn't sure how it applied to any of them currently. "The Eye already beheld your death the first time, got your page and a statement out of it too." He tilted his head. "What use would it have for a terminally ill servant? The Hunt was able to restore Trevor's health, why not the Eye yours?"

Both Gerry and Martin started at that, and Gerry raised a hand to cover Martin's where it rested on his arm. 

"I mean, I spent my last life trying to use the Eye as much as I could to help others while fighting its claim on me," Gerry said carefully, biting his lip. He wished the damn thing had allowed him to keep a lip piercing so he had something to fiddle with as he collected his thoughts. "I should probably continue doing that but," he glanced first at Martin, then Jon. "It's tempting. To get a second chance."

Martin let out a sigh of relief. It was almost enough to distract Gerry from Jon, whose look was all consuming. "I can try to Know it, to make sure," he remarked, taking a step closer. "That is, if you don't already Know yourself."

The hairs on Gerry's arms stood on end. "Why not just do it, rather than asking?"

Jon gave him a wry smile. "I prefer to have consent, though I know enthusiasm really isn't on the table, or desk, in these cases."

Gerry colored once more. 'You little bastard, I knew you liked it,' he thought hard at Jon, though the other man didn't give any clue if he' heard or not.

"Better than Gertrude, at least where that's concerned," Gerry replied, relaxing a little and widening his stance. "Alright. I suppose it can't hurt. At least not me." Knowing could sometimes be a painful thing, especially on purpose, and Gerry was sure they both knew that from experience.

"Okay." Jon closed his eyes, face wrinkling in concentration. Gerry said nothing as one of the Archivist's hands reached out, hovering in front of his face. He could feel the heavy pressure of power, the direct gaze of an Eye that was as infinitely large and as it was incorporeal. Even Martin swallowed hard in its proximity.

Jon's eyes popped open, his cheeks turning red again in almost the same instant. "Well that was," he coughed into a hand. "Unexpected." He met their questioning eyes with a relieved sigh and a smile. "It's not there anymore, Gerry. You'd be back to full health, if you choose to take this further."

"Thank God for small mercies," Martin murmured, squeezing Gerry's arm. The affection was a bit overwhelming, now seeming to come from both of them if the look in Jon's eyes was anything to go by. He was also sure the only god Martin could be thank for this was not a power he would want the other man invoking.

"So I'm not at full health now?" Gerry asked. "Or am just I not a real boy again yet?"

Martin seemed to choke a bit on nothing all of a sudden, while Jon simply smiled.

"You're still a bit incomplete." Jon nodded towards the banker's box. "I'm not sure of all the details, but, to put it simply, your page needs to be reunited with the rest of you to complete your resurrection."

Gerry looked at Jon, looked at the box, then looked back at Jon. "Well that's either going to be stupidly hard or ridiculously easy," he said, crossing his arms and thinking.

Martin blanched. "God, you don't think we'll have to staple it to him like the anglerfish victims did, do you?" He asked Jon.

"Excuse me?" Gerry asked, voice pitching. "You are not getting anywhere near me with a stapler." He held out his hands in front of him, ready to shove them away if he needed to.

"Calm down both of you," Jon sighed, gripping the bridge of his nose between his thumb and forefinger. He then reached up to tug at his hair. "You would think with all of your piercings and tattoos, you wouldn't mind something like a stapler. They do happen to have medical grade staple guns for situations where stitches won't do."

"You really don't need to inform me about anything you can find in A&E, Jon," Gerry snorted, crossing his arms again. "I reckon I have more practical experience in those departments than you."

"Yes, yes, we've all read the statement from Ms Saraki regarding your time at St. Thomas," Jon waved him off.

Gerry went still. "Have you?" He asked, voice carefully neutral.

"We tried to research you through statements before we found out you were-," Jon swallowed his next words, instead saying, "You intrigued me, and I wanted to learn as much as I could. Find out what you knew."

Gerry grinned, shifting his weight from foot to foot as he looked down at the Archivist. "You thought I was cool didn't you? Had a crush on the big bad bookburner?"

"Oh shove it," Jon snapped, turning to focus on the banker's box instead. It didn't stop Gerry from seeing the blush on his cheeks.

"So if stapling it back on is out," Martin cleared his throat, his face also red. "How would we put Gerry back together?" He glanced at both of them, fingers drumming against the desk. "I mean, where did it even come from?"

"Oh that's easy." Gerry tugged his shirt up, garnering anxious and startled noises respectively, splaying his free hand over the shimmery, imperfect square on his abdomen. It almost looked like static skittering across a dark TV screen.

"How the hell did I not notice that?" Martin remarked. His brows knit and he covered his mouth, blushing furiously.

"I didn't either," Jon admitted, giving Martin a sympathetic glance.

"It probably popped up afterwards," Gerry remarked. "Like a wound you can't feel yet because you haven't looked at it."

"That's lovely," Jon remarked dryly. "Are you in pain?"

"Nah," Gerry stopped playing with the empty space and let his shirt drop back down. "Well, no more than I have been, which is a lot less than usual." 

"Alright." Jon nodded before he curled his hand over his mouth, proceeding to get lost in thought.

Gerry and Martin shared a look, falling silent themselves. Martin wasn't entirely sure what question they were trying to answer anymore, but the idea of leaving Gerry in a perpetual limbo sat uneasy with him. Gerry potentially choosing that or death sat even worse.

Gerry was having his own silent crisis. There were more than the entities or brain tumors to worry about if he became real again, including potential supernatural caveats to his resurrection and the mundane issues that came with piloting the meat sack that was a human body. He could remain a ghost, completely reliant on the whims of the Eye and its servants. He could let go and pass into the realm of the End for good. But to live again? To be able to flip off the entities by rescuing who he could and burning their cursed tomes?

He could already do good for the two people here in the Archivist's office. Jon was warmer than Gertrude ever was. He tried to keep those close to him alive rather than sacrificing them to further his own machinations. Perhaps it was because he was still so new to it, but Gerry suspected it ran much deeper. There was a story behind what happened to Tim and why he was still around. There was even the way Jon wouldn't let a stranger like Gerry go.

He followed Jon's gaze to Martin and felt his insides melt into something obscenely pleasant. He was halfway in love with the man already; could understand just a little of what Jon felt for Martin. Martin, whose heart was almost lost to the Lonely. A chilly bolt struck Gerry as he realized what Elias's game might have been, at least in part, when it came to Martin. Kill the Archivist's heart, be left with a perfectly malleable shell.

"So are we even going to try anything, or are we going to stand around navel gazing for the rest of the night?" Gerry asked rather loudly, clapping his hands together before raising them above his head in a stretch. 

The other two men, startled out of their own thoughts, locked their eyes on the small patch of skin bared by Gerry's stretch, and he grinned. "It's late, and you two still need to eat and sleep. I say we either try something now or wait until tomorrow."

"I think we should at least make an attempt, while we're all here," Jon said, adjusting his glasses. Then he started and turned to Martin, "I mean, at least speaking for myself."

"It's fine, Jon," Martin assured the other man softly, giving Jon a reassuring pat on the arm. "I don't think I could sleep tonight without knowing if Gerry's alright."

Gerry swallowed down some emotion that felt like curdled jealousy mixed with fondness at the interaction. "Well then," Gerry stepped up between the two and picked up the baker's box, setting it in Jon's chair. "Should probably lay down for this, if it doesn't pop into place like a puzzle."

Gerry hopped onto Jon's desk, trying to force down the memories of what happened earlier that day on the same surface.

"You're sure then?" Jon asked carefully. "You want to live again? Even if it's as a pawn of the eye?"

Gerry pulled his shirt off, then flashed Jon his biggest smile. "Yup," he patted his abdomen on either side of the empty space. "Do your worst, Victor Frankenstein."

"This is hardly an act of hubris performed by a poorly trained medical school drop out," Jon replied dryly, causing Martin and Gerry to laugh.

"You're both ridiculous," Martin snorted, moving to stand by Gerry's right and the front facing side of the desk.

"You just noticed that?" Gerry laid down, dark hair spilled across the top and over the side of the desk, smiling up at Martin. His feet hung over the end of the desk, but he toed his boots off anyway. He'd only laced them enough to walk down to the Archive in the first place.

"No, but he's usually too polite to comment on it," Jon said with fondness, smoothing his own hair away from his face, a smile on his lips too.

"I'm allowed to be rude sometimes," Martin teased back. "You two certainly exercise your right of it often enough."

"Yes, yes, we're both hopelessly ill-mannered without you to correct us," Gerry quipped, and gave the now sputtering Martin a wink. "I volunteer for punishment first."

Jon opened a drawer with a jerk and started rooting around in it. "I'm not sure what the two of you are starting on, but I'll certainly finish it if need be."

Martin and Gerry both fell silent, watching Jon as the Archivist searched. It took a moment for Jon to pick up on it, doing so once he found his query. "What?" He asked, pulling on a pair of leather gloves.

"God Jon," Martin moaned, covering his face with both hands. Gerry cackled.

"Please do, Archivist," the goth purred, letting his head rest fully on the desk.

Jon's expression flattened. "I don't want to know," he sighed, adjusting the gloves. "I think the best way to start this would be to see if it 'pops back into place like a puzzle piece.' I'm hoping the gloves will make this more pleasant for both of us," he directed the last part to Gerry, who shrugged.

"Sounds good to me," the other man replied, letting his eyes slip closed for a moment. "It was really the pinch earlier that hurt. Do you own a nail clipper, or do you just bite them?"

Jon sighed. "I'll be careful," he sighed, looking down at the bit of flesh in the box.

"Here." Gerry's eyes popped open when a warm hand slid into his. "In case it hurts this time," Martin clarified.

Gerry's heart thumped hard. "I, err, thanks," he squeezed once in assent, getting hit with the full warmth of Martin's sunny smile for it.

"Alright. Let's begin." 

Jon had handled some incredibly fragile things in his time, and he had never taken such care of them as he did this piece of Gerry. Even if it repulsed him, he did not risk damaging it or Gerry. Once he slipped his hands underneath the slab, suppressing a shiver he heard Gerry share, he lifted it slowly out of the box. Jon turned so very slowly to his desk and the man upon it, whose eyes were locked on his. He felt Martin's gaze as well, though it served to steady him. He lowered what had once been a piece of parchment to Gerry's torso, his hands sliding from under it as the bottom of the slab met the void in Gerry's body. With a slow exhale, he was able to extract his hands fully, raising them above his head in a silent prayer with his eyes locked on Gerry's skin.

All three of them stood frozen in a macabre tableau, waiting for something to happen. It was only broken when Gerry was forced to breathe again.

"Well that didn't do fuckshit," he retorted, combing his hair back as he stared down the flap of skin.

"Apparently," Jon grumbled, disappointment thick on his tongue.

"Maybe we just haven't watched long enough?" Martin squeaked, squeezing Gerry's hand in an attempt to comfort them both.

"Or we could try the stapler," Jon replied slowly.

Gerry jerked away from Jon like would a red-hot poker. "Absolutely not."

Realizing what he did, Gerry's hand shot out belatedly to hold the page in place. It took him another moment to realize that it hadn't moved. The flesh that had been his page seemed stuck on top of the void, and pressing on it only caused alien static to flood his body. He rested back on the desk, hand barely touching the skin. His other hand, which had pulled out of Martin's hold to support himself, sought that contact once more.

"So that's," Gerry drew out his words before shivering again. "Something? Fuck that feels fucking sideways."

Martin looked at Gerry with alarm, "Are you okay?"

"I think?"

Jon pulled at his hair. "We're missing something," he hissed, trying to Look through Gerry and Know what it was.

Gerry closed his eyes and sorted his breathing, finding that place of calm that had gotten him through many tricky situations.

"I don't think you're Beholding me enough," he exhaled, opening his eyes as the static of Knowing and his own gut understanding came over him.

"What?"

"What does that even mean?"

Gerry sighed, rubbing his face with his free hand. "Beholding has been what's making me real, feeding the Eye and encouraging it to see me in more detail?" His lips twitched in a threat of a smile. "The Voyeur isn't an empty epithet, it seems."

Both of the men standing turned bone white, Martin quickly going red after. "Right, so, more sex stuff?"

"That's one way to put it." Gerry gave Martin a quick smile before turning to Jon. "I hate to put you in this position, but I don't think just watching is going to do anything this time."

Jon was shaking, deathly pale, and tugging his hair by the root. "I can't," he whispered.

"Jon?" Martin's voice was full of concern.

"Hey," Gerry turned his head to Jon, hand outstretched. "We can work out something else."

Jon shook his head, discarding the banker's box so he could sit on his chair, elbows on his knees and face in his hands. "You don't understand," he whispered, voice hoarse.

"Try us?" Gerry folded and flexed his fingers, urging Jon to take his hand. "Maybe we can understand if you tell us?"

"Knowledge isn't Understanding," Jon quoted to Gerry's chagrin. He looked over his now steepled fingers at Gerry and Martin both. "I don't do sex," he started bluntly, flinching at his own words. "It's not a choice, like abstinence or celibacy. I simply," he sighed and gestured to his body, "don't ever have the desire to engage with another person, or persons," he revised, looking between the other two men.

Martin let out a soft oh. "I've heard of that, it's," he blushed. "Natural, Jon. It's okay."

Gerry's eyes hadn't moved from Jon's. "Earlier you seemed affected," he said, softly and without judgement. "Was that because of the statement nonsense or?"

Jon and Martin both flinched, though Gerry had tried to soften his question. "I can and do experience arousal," Jon snapped, sitting back in his chair and adjusting his glasses. "Most of the time it's unwanted."

"Oh," Gerry's outstretched hand curled up, just as his guts started to pull in on themselves and turn to hot tar.

"Gerry, it's fine. What happened earlier. It- I forgive you." Jon's hand found his hair again, the other gripping his pant leg as he hunched again. "This is why I don't tell anyone. They always take it personally or ask me what part of me was so damaged and they can't even help it."

"Jon," Gerry opened his hand again. "It's really alright. I'm sorry I put you in a situation where you had to explain," and put him in a clearly uncomfortable situation earlier, but he left that part unsaid for now as it probably wouldn't help soothe Jon. "Forget what I said about needing more. We can try just touching, above the belt even. Or skip anything to do with sex or nudity altogether. Just existing in the institute helped before."

Jon shook his head and chuckled darkly. "You were only telling the truth, not forcing me to do," he swallowed, "anything. Besides, who else is closer to the Eye than me? Elias? Absolutely not."

All three of them shuddered at the mention of the erstwhile head of the Institute.

"I mean, he's probably watching," Martin remarked, unhelpfully.

"Yeah, that slimy little rat bastard can't keep his eyes off a good show," Gerry joked, getting a chuckle out of Martin and a smile from Jon.

After a moment, Jon spoke up again. "I didn't tell you because I'm not willing to help," he sighed. "I'm just not sure what I would be able to do to help."

Gerry blinked. "If you're worried about being able to get it up enough to stick in me, I think my arse is officially wrecked today after taking Martin," he informed Jon bluntly.

"Gerry!" Martin shrieked, squeezing the other man's hand so that his nails dug in a bit while covering his face with his own free hand.

Both Jon and Gerry laughed, Jon's hands finally relaxing and Gerry allowing his eyes to close for just a moment. 

When the goth was able to look at the Archivist again, he said, "I was serious about just touching." He blinked slowly at Jon, like he would to charm a stray cat. "Above the belt. Or just watching, if you're amiable to the idea." 

Gerry turned his head to address Martin. "Same goes for you. Earlier was," he squeezed Martin's hand, "very good. And if you want to leave it at that, please don't feel obligated to help."

Martin stared down at Gerry owlishly before looking over to Jon. "Why do you think it is that, when it's just fooling around he's willing to break our doors down, but if he actually needs something, it's all 'you don't have to's and 'we can figure something else out'?"

Gerry blushed bright red, all the way down to his chest.

Jon paused for a moment. "Because he's a brat with commitment issues," popped out of his mouth, bypassing his filter completely.

Gerry looked up at the ceiling in mute panic, while Martin chuckled nervously.

"Did you Know that or was it a guess?" Martin asked.

Jon stared at both of them, jaw slack. "I couldn't help it, I really didn't need to Know all of that." He let his head drop into his hands again. "I really did not."

Gerry laughed hysterically, covering his eyes as he laughed hard enough to tear up. "Serves you both right for being rude," he teased them, spreading his fingers a bit so he could check Martin's expression. His heart fluttered when he saw it was one of interested determination. While Jon clearly hadn't known what 'brat' meant in such a specific context, it was obvious that Martin did.

"I wasn't being rude, Gerry," Martin remarked, squeezing his hand when the blonde noticed the goth peaking. "I was observing the situation. You should know that Jon can't help it sometimes, when things are phrased as a question."

"Are we going to try this or not?" Jon spoke up, effectively silencing the banter between Gerry and Martin. The former simply grinned. 

"Anything you're game for," Gerry replied, wiggling his fingers one more time. "Though I can't hold both of your hands and take my pants off at the same time."

Jon rolled his eyes and stood, a muffled, "Jesus, Gerry," coming from Martin.

"Then don't be the one to take them off," Jon replied, taking Gerry's free hand and squeezing. Before the other man could comment, Jon ran a finger from Gerry's navel to his collarbone, skipping only the very ends of the former page.

Gerry melted against the desk, moaning softly.

"That's a good look on him, isn't it Martin?" Jon peered up from Gerry at the blonde, blushing when he realized how closely Martin had been watching him.

"Blissed out or quiet?" Martin joked, running his own hand along Gerry's side. He ran a finger along where burn scar met the unblemished skin around Gerry's tattoos, provoking a shiver.

"Both," Jon replied with a smirk. His finger trailed from Gerry's collar bone to one of his pecs, slowly circling the circumference of an areola. "These look a little swollen, Gerry," he remarked conversationally. "Was it you or Martin who abused your poor nipples?"

Gerry bucked his hips, moaning as the touch on his tender, oversensitive nipples shot a bolt through him. "Fuck," was what he managed to answer, closing his eyes when he couldn't figure out who to look at.

"That's a rude way to answer a question, Gerry," Martin scolded him lightly, thumbing the dips between the ridges of Gerry's ribs. "Jon asked you a question. Are you going to be good and answer it?" His gaze flicked to the Archivist, gauging his reaction.

Jon felt his mouth dry and his cheeks heat at Martin's words. He wet his lips, about to say that it wasn't necessary, when Gerry moaned again.

"Mostly me," the goth gasped, squeezing both of their hands. He wriggled his hips and legs, trying to ease the pressure of his pleasure. "Martin was a bit scared to touch them, at first." His eyes sparkled with mischievousness as he looked at the Archivist. "Are you?"

Jon stopped his ministrations to flick one of the steel bearings, making the man on the desk writhe. "Don't be a brat, Gerry," he sneered, pressing his fingertip hard into the middle of a nipple and rubbing it in a slow circle. "Unlike Martin, I Know exactly what would be too much," he withdrew, "and too little."

"Fucking prick," Gerry squeezed his eyes shut and dug his nails into Jon's hand.

Martin's exploring touch halted over Gerry's solar plexus. "Is that a Hamsa tattoo?" he asked, interrupting his own train of thought.  
Gerry's eyes popped back open. "Yeah?" He lifted his head a bit to look down at himself. "Thought you would have noticed it earlier."

"Perhaps there was some interference," Jon supposed, academic curiosity overtaking him. "Martin is technically Eye aligned as well, but he doesn't have much power of his own." Then he traced another tattoo on Gerry's ribcage. "I certainly missed this one earlier."

"Ah, right. Found my fascinum did you?" Gerry laughed breathily. "Hopefully it's not too distracting."

Jon traced the shape of the ejaculating penis etched in Gerry's skin, pausing to rub circles into the head. "I can assure you, it's not affecting me in the least." He lightened his touch to a mere tickle. "It's still the only dick of yours I'm going to be touching tonight."

That was what got Martin's attention. He mouthed a soft "what?" and leaned over to get a better look. He turned bright red when he saw it. "Gerry, that's obscene."

The goth laughed at that. "No more than what we're doing now."

"I suppose," Martin sighed, tweaking Gerry's nipple.

"Are you going to keep teasing me all night? Or are we going to actually do something," Gerry protested. His erection was straining painfully and no way he moved would alleviate the pressure.

“Martin,” Jon adjusted his glasses with his free hand. “Would you mind taking his hands for a moment?”

“Uh, sure?” Martin took Gerry’s other hand when it was offered, stroking the backs of both of Gerry’s hands with his thumbs.

“Thank you.” Jon traced the eye tattoo over Gerry’s heart. The goth wondered if the Archivist could feel how hard his heart was hammering under his touch.

“I really shouldn’t do this,” Jon continued, taking his hands off of Gerry and walking towards the other end of the desk. “But we are supposed to be Beholding all of you.” He deftly flicked the button on Gerry’s pants from it’s hole. “Any other time I’d leave you to suffer.”

“That is what you’re good at,” Gerry sniped back. Martin squeezed his hands warningly and gave him a look.

Jon only rolled his eyes as he slowly pulled Gerry’s zipper down. “Please, give me more reasons to change my mind.”

“You get what you give, Archivist.” Gerry hissed and bit his lip, trying not to move as his dick was freed from the worst of the restriction. 

“That’s enough out of you,” Martin scolded, leaning down to silence Gerry with a kiss. “Can’t you be nice for Jon like you were for me?” He rubbed circles into Gerry’s wrists over tattooed irises. “Show him how sweet you can be."

Between the words and touches, Gerry felt his body catch fire, sweetly outburning the desolation itself. "Fuck," he breathed in a whimper, going slack once more.

"Much better," Martin praised him, pressing his lips to each wrist before leaning in for another proper kiss. 

Jon had stopped, his hand still on Gerry's zipper, watching Martin and Gerry intently. It was only when he felt Gerry's dick twitch underneath his hand that he came back to himself.

Without a word, Jon hooked his fingers under both waistbands and pulled, slowly freeing Gerry completely from his clothes. He let a few fingers drag along Gerry's legs as he went, keeping his eyes locked on the other man's face.

Gerry broke the kiss with Martin as his dick was freed, meeting the full force of the Archivist's gaze. It was enough to have him leaking onto his stomach, moaning with a slack jaw and fingers digging into Martin's hands. 

"Better?" Jon asked, folding the mess of Gerry's pants, underwear, and socks to set on the chair.

Gerry opened his mouth, then shut it. "Yes, thank you," he said, voice quiet.

Jon paused, taking a moment to appreciate the full picture Gerry Keay made spread out on his desk. His cheeks were rosy and flushed; his thin lips swollen from Martin's kisses. Dark hair contrasted with pale skin shot through with silvery pink scars and black ink. His body was a statement in flesh, years of experience fighting fear with fire stretched across a wiry frame. Even then, there was still room for pleasure. Jon was thankful on Gerry's behalf that the Desolation hadn't taken his ability to be intimate.

"Jon," Gerry whimpered, closing his eyes and letting his head thunk against the desk. "Please."

"I'm sorry?" Jon stepped back up to the desk. Martin had let Gerry's other hand free, and Gerry reached out for Jon with it.

"You're going to burn me up if you keep looking at me so close," Gerry gripped his hand hard. "God, I can feel your eyes on me better than your hands."

"I suppose that's a good thing, considering what we're trying to do," Jon observed with a smile. He squeezed Gerry's hand back just as tight, running his other hand along the soft skin from Gerry's wrist to his elbow.

Martin watched them both with a fire of his own burning him up inside. He swallowed hard and tried not to look at Jon's lips too much or too often. He thought far too hard about his words, desperate not to ruin the sweetness he'd coaxed out of them. He ran a hand up and down Gerry's chest instead, skimming from collar to the top of the page. Gerry's panting reassured him that whatever spell they were fumbling through was working. 

"I think Gerry deserves a reward for good behavior. What do you think, Jon?" Martin asked, unable to look at the Archivist and instead keeping his eyes on Gerry.

"Hmm, a small one perhaps," Jon murmured, touch shifting to the inner part of Gerry's upper arm. "For encouragement to keep it up."

Gerry held in the snort he wanted to let out at Jon's phrasing. "Would you be alright with a kiss?" He asked instead, looking up at Jon.

That took Jon a bit off guard, and he stopped his caresses for just a moment. "I think I can manage that," he replied, leaning in slowly and carefully. His eyes darted over Gerry's face, trying to get the angle just right. Gerry licked his lips.

Martin let out a soft moan as Jon's lips met Gerry's, once again massaging the skin of Gerry's wrist as he watched them kiss. He wanted to be both of them, but at the same time was content to just watch. He wondered what that meant as Gerry coaxed Jon's lips apart to slip his tongue inside.

Martin's hand moved to run down Gerry's side, settling in the hollow of his hip. Jon and Gerry parted for air, satisfaction clear in Gerry's eyes as something harder to name made Jon's eyes hazy.

"I think I've just discovered a hidden talent of yours, Archivist," Gerry teased softly, thumb brushing Jon's knuckles. 

Jon blinked. "I don't know if I should thank you or take offense."

"It sounded like a compliment?" Martin observed, trying to be helpful.

Gerry's eyes flicked between them. "Why don't you give him a kiss too," he suggested to Jon. "You can decide if it's a compliment based on his reaction."

"Gerry-” Martin started nervously.

"It's alright," Jon looked up at Martin, cheeks hot and heart pounding. "I'd like that, actually." Then he gave a small chuckle. "You might have to do most of the leaning over, though."

Martin smiled, feeling the fire in his heart roar. "I'm more than happy to," he replied, keeping his hands on Gerry as he leaned over to finally kiss Jon for the first time.

Gerry guided Martin's hand to cup Jon's cheek as their lips met, both of the other men moaning sweetly. The love radiating off of them both was enough to warm him as well, even if it made his chest ache.

Jon surprised himself by how quickly he deepened the kiss, chasing after the taste on Martin's tongue like it was the only statement left in the Archive. Martin invited him in, flicking his tongue expertly against Jon's as he let the smaller man absolutely plunder him.

When they broke apart for air, Martin rested his forehead against Jon's, gazing deep into his eyes. "You are a marvelous kisser," he stated honestly. "I'd happily let you take me aside for a thorough snogging anytime."

Jon snorted, pressing an open mouthed peck to Martin's lips. "We'll see," he replied thickly, swallowing hard. "I believe we have a ghost to take care of for now."

"Oh, don't mind me," Gerry teased. "I was enjoying the show."

"Hush," Jon ordered without any bite, leaning down to steal another quick kiss. "I'll take care of the top half if you don't mind the rest," he told Martin.

"That's an odd way of putting it, but sure," Martin chuckled, copying Jon for a moment and stealing a kiss from their captive performer.

It took a moment for them to shift, Martin moving to the end of the desk between Gerry's long legs. He kept a hold on Gerry's hand, their tangled fingers resting over the eye on Gerry's right hip. His other hand ran along Gerry's left thigh, urging him to bend it up and away from his crotch. Jon held Gerry's other hand and carressed as much of Gerry as he could reach, stealing the occasional lazy kiss. The sound of their lips meeting alone was driving Martin crazy.

"You're both gorgeous like this," the blonde found himself saying, pressing a kiss to Gerry's thigh. He'd moved the goth closer to the edge of the desk so it was easier to bend over or kneel, if he so chose.

"M-Martin," Jon murmured softly, what was meant to be an affronted retort coming out as a whimper.

"He's right, Archivist," Gerry stage whispered, drawing Jon's attention back with their joined hands on his cheek. "Let's be sweet for him, yeah?"

Martin and Jon shared a groaned "fuck." Jon met Gerry's messy kisses with his own, thumbing at one of Gerry's nipples. Martin slid his hand down from Gerry's thigh to his groin. He gripped the base of Gerry's cock with his thumb and forefinger, hooking his ring finger and pinky under Gerry's sac to rub his knuckles gently against his piercing.

Before Gerry had a chance to process the feeling, Martin leaned in and captured the head of Gerry's dick with his lips, tongue flicking across his slit to lap up the beaded precum. Gerry moaned loud and high into Jon's mouth, the other man not letting him pull away.

Martin looked up at the other two with a smirk, pulling back to let his lips press flat against the tip as he sucked hard. Just as suddenly, he relaxed his jaw, letting Gerry thrust just the head weakly into his mouth.

"Oh god your fucking mouth," Gerry cried, finally free from Jon's lips to nearly scream. "Jesus, Martin, are you sure you're not trying to kill me for good?"

In lieu of a reply, Martin just eased a bit more of Gerry into his mouth. It had been awhile since he'd gone down on anyone, so he kept the pace easy while driving Gerry as wild as he could. When he saw both Gerry and Jon watching him, he closed his eyes and moaned.

Gerry let out another small cry and Jon pressed a kiss to their joined knuckles, pinching Gerry's nipple with his other hand. He almost saw the appeal of oral with the way Martin was taking Gerry apart, though it was more how they were reacting to each other that had him hardening. He ignored it in favor of keeping watch over Gerry's body. 

"I take it this didn't happen upstairs," Jon whispered against Gerry's ear, pressing a kiss to his cheek. Gerry turned his head to steal a proper kiss.

"No," Gerry breathed. "If he had, I don't think I would have let him leave."

Martin pulled off with a pop, laving Gerry's cock with his lips and tongue. He made it as messy as possible, tasting Gerry's precum along with his previous orgasm as he coated him thoroughly with his saliva.

"Might not let either of you leave my office," Jon muttered under his breath.

Gerry's head snapped towards him, eyes and mouth wide. Jon, unaware that he'd voiced that thought aloud, quickly distracted him with another kiss.

Martin, unaware of the exchange, shifted his attention further south. He gently sucked each of his balls, teasing the loose skin with his tongue. Then he nosed beneath them, very gently running his tongue against Gerry's pierced taint.

Gerry pulled back from Jon to moan, squeezing both of their hands as tight as he could. Martin took that as permission to play with the barbell, shifting it in its hole before sucking it lightly. When he pulled back to admire his work, his eyes met Jon's and Gerry's over Gerry's twitching dick.

"Yes?" he asked playfully, shifting his grip on Gerry's dick to stroke it gently.

"I'm dead and you killed me," Gerry informed him, squeezing Martin's hand.

"Shame," Martin replied, leaning down to take as much of Gerry as he could into his mouth.

"Fuck," Gerry's head slammed against the desk nearly hard enough for him to rattle his own brain.

"I think he liked that, Martin," Jon joked, tracing a finger along the eye over Gerry's heart again.

"Jon, I swear I'm trying to be good for Martin but-” Gerry's tirade was cut short as the Archivist leaned down and sucked on one of Gerry's nipples in a burst of inspiration. Gerry's eyes rolled back and he nearly levitated off the desk. He was kept grounded in place by Martin's hands on his hips while Jon held down a shoulder with one hand and had Gerry's hand pinned with the other.

Jon swirled his tongue around the tip and gave a hard suck before pulling back, the barbell clacking against his teeth. "Well, that was interesting," he said mostly to himself, his free hand moving to rub his saliva into Gerry's skin. 

"Interesting?" Gerry squeaked, before Martin stole his words with a flick of his tongue.

Martin bobbed up and down on Gerry's dick, not able to take all of him but pleasuring the rest of it with a skilled hand. He guided their joined hands to his hair, encouraging Gerry to tug on his curls as he sucked.

"Fuck, I think I'm close," Gerry warned them both, tears of pleasure welling in his eyes. Jon caught the first one that fell with a fingertip. He then ran that same fingertip over Gerry's lower lip, smearing the saltwater across the cracks.

"Then cum, Gerry Keay," Jon ordered, slipping into the Eye. "We are watching."

Martin moaned around Gerry's dick, redoubling his efforts as Jon's voice changed timbres.

"Let us See you, Gerry. Bask in the Ceaseless Watcher's gaze in your pleasure and fear and let it make you whole once more."

Jon leaned down and sealed his orders with a kiss. Gerry moaned, utterly helpless to do anything but let Jon, Martin, and the Ceaseless Watcher wring him dry. He spilled down Martin's throat like he never had before, the other man struggling to swallow it all and not choke.

When Martin was finally finished swallowing everything Gerry had, he pulled off his softening cock and rested his cheek against his thigh. "Did it work," he asked, his voice hoarse and his lips still slick.

When Gerry was able to open his eyes, he looked down at his torso. He let go of Martin's curls to run a hand over his abdomen, which showed no signs of ever being partially skinned. "I think so?"

Jon leaned down and kissed him sweetly. "It worked, Gerry," he answered, eyes bright. "That I Know."

"Thank goodness," Martin sighed, pulling his hands away from Gerry so he could stretch them and push up on the desk to stand. "I don't think I could have done much more tonight, to be honest."

Jon broke out into fond laughter. "Yes, you have done most of the work, if this scenario was anything to go off of."

"Hey," Gerry gave Jon a playful swat on the arm. "It wasn't my fault this time, and he wouldn't let me do much the first time."

"Really? This again already?" Martin stretched, his spine popping in a few places. "If you're complaining about the gentle treatment, I can make you really work for it next time."

"Next time?" Gerry excitedly pushed himself up to sit.

"I, err-" Martin looked between Gerry, who was still completely naked, and Jon, whose dark cheeks were visibly flushed and his trousers slightly tented. "Yes? I mean-"

Gerry caught the meaning. "Right. Well, this was fun enough if that's all there'll be." He took his pants from Jon, who had picked up from the chair to hand to him before freezing at the banter. "You two definitely need to talk things out."

"Just the two of us?" Jon asked, so matter of factly that it caught Gerry and Martin both off guard.

Gerry blinked, trying to swallow back the hope that was threatening to burst out of his chest. "I mean, I figured-” his words trailed off and he quickly shimmied into his underwear instead of finishing the sentence. 

Jon looked between the two other men, biting his lip. Martin could see the gears overworking themselves in the other man's head. He stepped closer to the shorter man and took one of his hands, squeezing it gently; a question and a reassurance.

"More than two people can fall in love with each other," Martin led softly, taking the reins from Jon when the other man squeezed his hand back.

Gerry froze in the process of doing up his pants. "What?"

Martin gave him his warmest smile. "I know it's all a bit much, and very fast, but if you're interested-”

"I've had your dick in my arse and my dick in your mouth for the majority of the time we've known each other," Gerry cut him off. "I think that's already moving a bit fast, yeah?"

Jon bristled a bit, but Martin just squeezed his hand. "True. It doesn't have to mean anything if you don't want it to. It can mean something if you want it. It can even be something that happens occasionally without any strings attached." He shrugged. "It's up to you, but I think we should still talk about it, if you want."

Gerry looked down at the hand Martin offered him. He finished doing up his pants before taking it, squeezing it gently. "If you insist," he said to them both, making sure to give Jon eye contact so he knew.

"Oh, I absolutely do," Jon teased back dryly, taking Gerry's other hand. "In fact, I insist that we do as soon as possible. Preferably at my flat," he looked at Martin briefly. "Or yours." his cheeks colored again. "Though I don't think I have much in the way of food to offer, now that I think about it."

"I can get us all something on the way," Martin suggested. "If you're going to host."

"I'm really not that hungry, anyway," Gerry tried to say, just before his stomach let out an incredibly loud gurgle.

"Sure," Martin managed, breaking out into giggles as the trio separated. "Whatever you say, love. Let's just find your shirt, and maybe a jumper, before we leave."

Jon gave Gerry a once over. "I hope you have something. I don't think he'll fit into anything of mine."

"I mean, I can think of a few things-" Gerry was silenced by a soft backhand to the arm.

"Stop that," Jon scolded. "Get all of your clothes back on before thinking about taking them off again."

Gerry grinned and shoved his socks on, "Oh did you Know what I was thinking?"

"I don't need to use the dark powers granted to me by a primordial fear entity to know where you were planning to go with that."

"Boys," Martin warned them both, handing Gerry his discarded shirt. "You both need to get dressed for going home. It is winter out."

" _Home _is it," Jon teased, something in his heart warming as he looked up at Martin.__

__"I, well, your home," Martin replied nervously, reaching up to run his hand through his already furiously debauched curls._ _

__"I find it funny that's the part you fixated on, and not the boys part," Gerry remarked, for all the world looking like he was engrossed in putting his boots on. "Unless there's nothing you disagree with there."_ _

__"I'm not pretending to know what you mean by that," Jon replied, words clipped even as his cheeks turned bright red. "And I don't care to, either."_ _

__"Just like the brat thing?" Gerry continued to tease, straightening up to give Jon his best Cheshire grin._ _

__"Another thing to talk about once we get to Jon's flat," Martin stated firmly, though he was red as well._ _

__"Home," Jon corrected, grabbing his coat. "It's where the heart is, after all."_ _

__"That was either disgustingly sweet or we're in for a macabre surprise," Gerry joked to Martin._ _

__"Alright, we're going to find you a sweater," Martin told him, taking a firm hold of Gerry's hand. "Meet you at the door?" He asked Jon._ _

__"Just don't get too sidetracked," Jon warned with a smile. "He hasn't eaten in years. We should really get a meal into him."_ _

__Before Gerry could make another comment, his stomach growled again._ _

**Author's Note:**

> Detailed CW  
> Exhibitionism/Vouyerism- Gerry has to get off for Jon, Martin, the Beholding itself, and (implied Elias)  
> Noncon/dubcon mentioned - references to part 1 of the fic series where Gerry made a statement while getting off on Jon's desk, forcing him to watch. He apologizes for it and Jon forgives him  
> Light BDSM- Gerry is a brat sub confirmed. Martin uses his soft Dom powers a bit. Praise/good boys abound.  
> Gerry's nipple and Guiche piercings  
> Suicide/Assisted Suicide mention- Gerry has to pick between staying a ghost, dying for real, or attempting to become mortal again.  
> Mild body horror- Gerry's page has become fully skin again, and can feel when it is touched. It ends up sticking to him but not sinking in fully until after Martin and Jon watch him orgasm.
> 
> (Let me know if I missed something)


End file.
